


Stop Bugging Me!

by Amusical



Category: Gravity Falls, One Piece
Genre: Accidental Self-Cannibalism, Asexual Characters, Body Horror, Buggy SI, Crazy Cat Lady Crazy Snail Person, Dark, Disassociation, Eye Gouging, Faceless SI, Fading Identity, Faux Levitation, From Pirate to Street Performer, From Street Performer to Famous Writer, Gen, Harmful Coping Mechanisms, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary SI, Other, SI becomes an author, Self enforced isolation, Self-Harm because of Abilities, The Red Haired Pirates, Trans Characters, Treading Dangerous Waters, Will Cipher?, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 09:38:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12745728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amusical/pseuds/Amusical
Summary: What happens when you fall into the One Piece World not as yourself, but as someone else? Dreaming of another world happens that's what. Follow Sic as they become a plagiarist to get by. And what happens when they meet Shanks? Tune in to watch the chaos that unfolds.





	Stop Bugging Me!

Stop Bugging Me! Chapter 1

Possession. The word haunts the soul, doesn’t it? It reminds the listener of the less savory things that go bump in the night. It has a whole slew of negative connotations, of ghosts and demons. Possession can also mean ownership, but that makes it even worse in a way. After all, I’m in the possession of someone else’s body right now, but how can I think that way? 

Looking down at myself causes shivers to go up my spine. When hair the wrong color falls onto my face, and the hair on the back of the neck raises. Everytime I look in a reflective surface.. Goosebumps cannot help but visit me. 

Does that make me a ghost now? A demon? It sure feels like it. To make matters worse I cannot even remember my name, and everything else about my life lives in a shroud… Sometimes I wonder if I am but a hallucination? A visitation? Or maybe this body suffers from amnesia? Multiple personalities? I don’t know, and I want to keep it that way. 

I know ignoring my issues won't make them go away, but I need to. I need this, this denial. 

It's only been a day since I’ve woken up this way, and I still cannot recall my name. Every time I try, I’m met with pain. Does that make me Paul now? Ha! I don’t even know my name, but I can remember the details of some fanfiction? 

Heavy emotions swirl, and the back of my throat becomes thick. I can remember my life, my loved ones, and it hurts. I can never see them again, or talk to them ever again. Feels like I’m already dead.

At least, that’s how I feel, but I know I’m not. I’m alive or at least the person I’m possessing is. It makes me guilty, thinking about my family, because I’ve robbed that very ability from the person I’m in. I shiver, and shake my head. 

The person whose life I’ve stolen must have had a family, or at least someone to mourn them. I’m afraid. Afraid that one day I’ll bump into someone who’ll recognize me. Who would look at me with the warmth of a beloved. Someone who would smile at me with more than something other than politeness. 

The hotel room that isn’t home, paid for by money that isn’t mine. I can’t help but feel oily, worthless inside. Even then, I can’t help, but to use this money for these luxuries. I’ve never spent a night out on the streets before, and more than anything else I’m afraid. Afraid that I’ll close my eyes and never wake up again. Never feel comfortable in my skin again.. This skin that isn’t mine.

Bracing myself, I force a look into the mirror. I want to- I need to see who it is I’ve taken. And weirdly enough I don’t have a nose. Huh. That must have been why people were staring at me. They didn’t think I was being flakey, they were just staring at the smooth flat area where a nose should have been. Just as I was wondering why I could still breath through my nose when it clearly wasn’t there, something flew out of the pockets of my travel bag. 

Floating there a moment, long enough for me to stare at in the mirror. The round and red clown nose, because that is what it is, a clown nose- flies at me. The sudden flying projectile zooms around the room, causing me to flail about, right before bashing me in the face. 

/\/\/\\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\\/\/\/\//\/\\\/\/\/\/\/\\\\\/\/\/\//\\\//\/\/\/\/\\\//\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\\/\/\

It must have been several hours at least since I’ve been knocked out by my own nose, because sunlight is streaming through the window when I wake up. I know that the unidentified flying object that attacked me earlier was my nose, because now that it’s attached I can feel it. The most disconcerting thing I’ve ever felt, this impossibly smooth nose. This smooth, round, and red nose…

I’m Buggy the Clown, aren’t I? 

I sigh, letting myself once again drop to the ground. Staring up at the ceiling I can’t help, but wonder how did I get myself into this mess. 

/\/\/\//\/\/\//\//\/\/\/\/\/\//\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\//\/\\\/\/\/\//\\\/\//\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\///\\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

A few hours later, of which, I must have fallen asleep again, because I wake once again, this time with the desire to look in the mirror. To confirm my suspicions. 

An immediate eye catcher is my choppy, shoulder length hair, a startling blue color. Earlier my blue hair was noted, but this- It looks so natural, so strange, this blue. This really must be the land of anime, of nonsense, because I can’t make any sense of what I’m seeing. At least, my eyes were a very normal gunmetal blue, though not the color I was used to. 

Broad shoulders, straight posture, tan skin- Quite the handsome picture painted there, but it was still off putting to see a stranger in the mirror. Well muscled without being bulky, I could be described as being lithe. I was even quite tall compared to the standards of my past life, at least for a women. That’s right I was a woman, which was in a way reassuring for multiple reasons. 

However, there was no denying that I was Buggy. I had the nose, the hair, the body ..type. 

Does that mean that Buggy’s gender changed when I arrived? Or was the Buggy of this world always female? I couldn’t have been older than my early twenties. Does that mean if I looked around the corner Gol D. Roger’s crew would be right around the corner? 

Shaking my head to clear it, I stood up. I shouldn’t be thinking this. I needed to clear my head. I was hungry, could feel a headache coming, but I put it all aside for what needed to be done. 

I wasn’t Buggy anymore, never really was Buggy. But I also wasn’t who I used to be. I was.. Music. It wasn’t perfect, but it was me. 

Buggy.. Buggy’s nose was too distinguishable, I had to hide it. Finding a sickness mask in the bathroom I tried slipping it on, but it wouldn’t slide over the overly large nose. Detaching my nose, and slipping it into my pocket was the best course of action for now. Had to add some tissue paper in the mask to keep it up, but that would have to do for now. 

Music had to face the world, and stepping out of the door was the first move they needed to make.


End file.
